Released: September 7, 2011
Featuring: Domo Genesis Peter Rosenberg
Songwriter: Tyler, The Creator
[Intro: Tyler]
Hey guys (Golf Wang!)
I'm Peter Rosenberg, super-underground
You know me, uh, you see my laptop, yeah, I mean
Apple is pretty mainstream but I have underground stickers
So it levels out..
[Verse 1: Domo]
Y'all niggas got it twisted, we ain't the Misfits
We the sick shit, make the competition slit wrists
Bodybag, beats get rapped like it's Christmas
Popping tags, I stay in Dior cause I'm Christian
Nigga listen: I been killing shit since I was the
Age of the face that R. Kelly pissed in
In the booth, I'm brawling to be like the Pistons
Only smoke flight, you can't hit if you ain't pitched in!
And bitch stop talking, let the marijuana sink in
And when that chauffeur roll up, you better get in
You and your 6 friends, even your big friend
Got a gang of wolves that slay hoes like henchmen
O.F. kill someone, yeah nigga we shipped it
Local ass nigga, we overseas on you dipshits
Walking flex tweet, motherfucker take a Twitpic
Kidnapped the game and it won't quit bitching
[Verse 2: Tyler]
Duct tape, bow knife, now I’m breaking in homes
And now I’m in the closet with Kelly, we’re watching The Throne
And 'till I get that mothafucka I'll be watching ya home
And gonna tryna go harder than me hiding a boner
With lights on it, see I was the loner
Now I got a bunch of fucking Lindsay Lohans
That don’t even know me, tryna get me that old hand
Job, fuck that ho blow me
The G.I. Joe of O.F. is slowly
Solely running shit his toes is swollen
Goblin left the bridge, no more patrolling
Stick my finger in any hole I can find, fuck bowling
I’m making that bread, jabronni, and the green shit that’s growing is stuck
My Bank account is molding
Me and Wanda Sykes was holding hands 'till I eat her cooter
Like a fresh bowl of Ravioli, Chef Boyar-T
On tour, had to make a couple pit stops
Ended at this fucking hipster club called the Pin Drop
Where they said they hated on me and Odd Future kids
And how much they really love underground hip-hop
We don’t give a fuck like a virginized dick cock
After being tickled by a couple Eddie Bishops
Young niggas OF, got this
Come to my show and see niggers in the moshpit
Cat on my cotton, zebra print 5 panel from Jebbia
Now I’m flyer than an ostrich
VMA nom, yes! Video my set
Harder than Nakel not nolling a nine set
Thrasher, billboard, cover of them issues
Boy flow colder than O'Shay stuck in an igloo
I'mma fuck the game till my herpes-covered dick's bruised
Hey guys (Golf Wang!)
I'm Peter Rosenberg, super-underground
You know me, uh, you see my laptop, yeah, I mean
Apple is pretty mainstream but I have underground stickers
So it levels out..
[Verse 1: Domo]
Y'all niggas got it twisted, we ain't the Misfits
We the sick shit, make the competition slit wrists
Bodybag, beats get rapped like it's Christmas
Popping tags, I stay in Dior cause I'm Christian
Nigga listen: I been killing shit since I was the
Age of the face that R. Kelly pissed in
In the booth, I'm brawling to be like the Pistons
Only smoke flight, you can't hit if you ain't pitched in!
And bitch stop talking, let the marijuana sink in
And when that chauffeur roll up, you better get in
You and your 6 friends, even your big friend
Got a gang of wolves that slay hoes like henchmen
O.F. kill someone, yeah nigga we shipped it
Local ass nigga, we overseas on you dipshits
Walking flex tweet, motherfucker take a Twitpic
Kidnapped the game and it won't quit bitching
[Verse 2: Tyler]
Duct tape, bow knife, now I’m breaking in homes
And now I’m in the closet with Kelly, we’re watching The Throne
And 'till I get that mothafucka I'll be watching ya home
And gonna tryna go harder than me hiding a boner
With lights on it, see I was the loner
Now I got a bunch of fucking Lindsay Lohans
That don’t even know me, tryna get me that old hand
Job, fuck that ho blow me
The G.I. Joe of O.F. is slowly
Solely running shit his toes is swollen
Goblin left the bridge, no more patrolling
Stick my finger in any hole I can find, fuck bowling
I’m making that bread, jabronni, and the green shit that’s growing is stuck
My Bank account is molding
Me and Wanda Sykes was holding hands 'till I eat her cooter
Like a fresh bowl of Ravioli, Chef Boyar-T
On tour, had to make a couple pit stops
Ended at this fucking hipster club called the Pin Drop
Where they said they hated on me and Odd Future kids
And how much they really love underground hip-hop
We don’t give a fuck like a virginized dick cock
After being tickled by a couple Eddie Bishops
Young niggas OF, got this
Come to my show and see niggers in the moshpit
Cat on my cotton, zebra print 5 panel from Jebbia
Now I’m flyer than an ostrich
VMA nom, yes! Video my set
Harder than Nakel not nolling a nine set
Thrasher, billboard, cover of them issues
Boy flow colder than O'Shay stuck in an igloo
I'mma fuck the game till my herpes-covered dick's bruised